


Gravity

by nsfwrot



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Depression, Gen, Heavy Angst, Panic Attacks, Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Songfic, Suicide, i’m sad please ignore this lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:21:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27759061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsfwrot/pseuds/nsfwrot
Summary: After George and Dream break up, Dream’s mental health starts spiraling down faster than it ever has before. He starts blaming himself for the breakup until he eventually can’t take it anymore.~Hi guys! Just to let you guys know, this is a songfic that is inspired by the song Gravity - Eden. It’s a very good song and you guys should give it a listen :D
Relationships: Dream & GeorgeNotFound, DreamWasTaken/GeorgeNotFound, clay | dream/george
Comments: 15
Kudos: 288





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> ⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️  
> this chapter will include mentions of drinking, drugs, and suicide so please be aware. if there are any other triggers you guys need, please tell me so i can add them :] also, idk if this is going to be a multi-chapter book or not, i was thinking about it being my vent book where i write stories relating to my thoughts, but we’ll see! love you guys and hope you enjoy crying ur eyes out >:]

i wanted you to be the last thing on my mind i wanted you to be the reason i close my eyes  
but i can't sleep

-

it's not been the same since we've broken up; george and i. i was sure things were fine. between us, they were fine, at the very least.

i'm a burden to him, i know that now. i should've treated him better. maybe if i'd given enough of a damn to care more about him this wouldn't be so hard.

it's 8 am. i haven't slept; i don't think i will. i've been up since 4 yesterday. i'm tired, so tired, and in more ways than one, yet my eyes can't close. they're held open by the memories of george, every time they get close to letting me slip into lavish unconsciousness i'm snapped right back awake by brutal reality.

george doesn't love me anymore.

i think at one point george might've felt something for me, but it was short. he got too close; saw too much and learned far too many things. i assume that's what scared him.

i've stayed up for days wondering why george decided to end it with me, and of all the reasons, i can't decide one. maybe i'm not meant to. maybe it's all of them.

-

and oh god, i wanted to be your high  
but everything i said, went unheard  
and everything you saw, with eyes straight blurred  
became our downfall

-

it was exactly one year ago that he saw me. drinking a 6 pack of beer in half an hour, laying on the floor and refusing to respond.

he asked if i was okay then. he stopped doing that a few months before he left.

i slept right there on his floor that night. i refused a pillow or a blanket and woke up in the morning to him laying right beside me, arms brushing against each other in our sleep. my back hurt like someone drove a fucking semi over it, though, and i had a crick in my neck alongside a pulsating headache.

i guess that kind of thing just became routine for me after that. drink far too much alcohol, even past the point where it concerned george who lived for the stuff. i drank so much it was a miracle i had somehow dodged having alcohol poisoning or having my liver completely fail.

sometimes i'd get high, but that wasn't as often as the drinking. i got addicted to the feeling of groggy sludge where colours blended together in a big blur of who-gives-a-fuck realities. it was better, it was pure bliss.

george had asked if there was a genuine issue with me. he expressed his concerns about the level of alcohol i was consuming.

"'course not." i had responded. george sighed but accepted it.

i don't understand how he believed it– even if to a certain extent only.

-

'cause you say i drink, and i smoke and i talk too much  
but i know you lied when you said you just gotta go and save yourself

-

"i want to move on; work on myself."

such bullshit. justified bullshit, though.

the last thing he's done is worked on himself. he's not moved on, in fact he doesn't even seem to want to move on. he stays making youtube videos, doing collabs or hanging out with our friend group.

he's happy, though. george is happy.

it was probably an excuse to get away from me. i understand why he would want to do that. who wants to date an alcoholic who rants about insignificant shit instead of letting you tell them about how your day was.

it's me, surprise, i'm the stupid cunt who can't keep his fingers off of a glass bottle and is so selfish he makes everyone hate him.

somewhere deep down i'm glad that george got away from me. it's good for him and i can only hope that our other friends will realise that i'm bad for them as well. the last thing i want is to put them through what all i've put george through.

-

so hear me out  
you know everybody talks, girl  
and it means nothing 'till you let it  
but if you keep second guessing then there's only gonna be one end

-

it's monday. i haven't slept much since friday, the only exception being a nap on sunday. my vision is fuzzy and my limbs feel tingly and light, head heavy but mind protesting against the thought of sleep.

fuck sleep; we have too much to take care of to sleep. don't think i've ever resented something as much as i have the concept and need for sleep.

it feels good to be this tired in some fucked up way. on one side my brain is just some pond, polluted, full of thoughts that make no sense. my limbs feel like paper and i'm feeling more effects of the natural tipsiness.

on the other side there is the horrible bags under my eyes, really badly turning a painting pot of greys and purples, creating an illusion of sunken and hollowed our sockets. maybe that's what they were, it's like a metaphor i can't bear to decipher now. the feeling creates dizziness, making me sway right off of my feet. my eyes burn and all i can think about is going to sleep.

monday, today, at 3 pm george came around mine and nick's apartment to film a video with nick. i had taken up residence on the sofa, a blanket securely draped over my head and laying across the parts of my body it reached. i laid on my side there, unmoving and with an uncomfortably cold foot as that's the one place the blanket didn't cover.

i didn't know how long i was laying there. the only thing i really could grasp was that george had found me still and unmoving as he was about to leave. the tv was off yet i was staring directly into it while simultaneously looking at nothing at all, which had worried george for some reason i couldn't place. i mean, who really cares if i want to lay and stare for awhile.

"dream?" george had crouched down in front of me. i took my time slowly moving my vision to focus on him the best i could. all i could make out was just some vague smudges of colour that worked together to build the man that was george. he smiled sadly at me. "are you alright?"

i looked away from him again, locking eyes with the tv again. george remained where he was.

"yeah." i croaked out, voice scratchy and barely sounding like an actual word rather than an odd noise.

i didn't care much to think about whether or not george had believed that one. he was quiet after that, going to silently sit on the other side of the couch. i stayed still and ignored him.

pretty hard to ignore a guy who's moved to wrap you tightly and protectively in his arms. even harder to ignore when it's the most human contact you've had in a long time and it's the one person in the world you want even if you know you're so bad for them.

and for a few minutes at 6 pm on monday, i felt a bit more safe.

soon, i know, the safety with turn into sinister self hatred and longing for someone i would never have. and it was all because i can't just be normal for him.

-

but you can leave if you really want to  
and you can run if you feel you have to  
now i'll be fine if you ever ask me  
i know it's hard, but no one said it's easy

-

i don't want george to leave, there's a million things i'd prefer over that, but i'm beginning to come to terms with the fact that he has and there's nothing i can do about it. especially because it's my fault in the first place.

i do get why he broke up with me in the first place. drinking so much it's a miracle i'm not dead, getting high every weekend, not having enough energy to spend time with  
him, or anyone else, drastically twisting his words in my head. i'm a mess, a mess not worth fixing.

george comes over again on tuesday. he just hangs out for a bit, with nick and wilbur for most of the time. i didn't leave my room, not when they called me out, not when wilbur barged in and asked if i was interested in playing minecraft with them, not until i heard the front door click shut and the apartment was filled with silence once again.

nick came into my room after they left. i couldn't muster up enough energy to sit up and face him so i kept laying on my side, curled up, even as tension in the air grew awkward.

"george wanted me to ask if you're feeling alright." nick spoke. i continued staring at the wall.

"yeah, 'course i am." i answered, lying through my teeth and pulling my duvet up and over my head. i didn't want nick to see me in this state; it was either he left or i did.

"sure?" nick asked with a suspecting tone. i sighed out under the blanket.

"yes, i'm just tired. can you please leave now?" i huffed out in annoyance.

"right, yeah. sorry." nick closed my door.

i laid alone again, hints of emotion leaving my body through ragged sobs that i really couldn't pinpoint when or why they began in the first place.

the one thing i wanted to say most in the world just so happened to be the very thing i couldn't say. i'm not okay, please help me.

-

falling's easy  
but there's only one way up

-

i wonder why feeling negative is more simple. i wonder if it's just me, or maybe that's just me being self centred.

i miss feeling happy. properly happy.

i don't want to feel like i'm drowning in murky water in the middle of a night that never ends. i would do anything to reach the feeling of genuine joy again; feel that, instead of drowning, i'm walking along the shore at sunrise with george right next to me. i mean anything.

even if anything includes losing everything.

even if anything means stopping feeling for good.

-

so i been thinking, that i think too much  
and i can't sleep, but i can dream of us  
and i've been seeing shit, like horror cuts  
it's burning down, i gotta drown this out

-

he's all i can think about. it's just fucking george, george, george, george, fucking george. all day and into the late hours of the morning.

i can't focus on anything either. my brain is just occupied by wondering what it was i did wrong, why he left me, all the things it could've been. i didn't know which, or even if it was just one or a few things, so to be safe i just have to assume it's everything.

if i could fix everything about myself george would take me back. i can't, though, and i'll never be able to fix myself. all i've got going for me is that i've gotten a lot thinner, as i can barely bring myself to leave my room for food, and i barely drink or smoke weed anymore, as it takes too much energy.

i have a lot of other things just working against me as well. just a few examples is that i'm so tired i don't talk to anyone anymore, whenever nick or someone comes to check on me i end up lashing out on them, i'm quickly going broke for lack of uploading to youtube and it's obvious nick won't be able to pay it on his own for much longer. at this point i'm just waiting for him to kick me out.

nick talks to me eventually, just a few choice words about me needing to upload or do something to help pay rent. i told him i would, but it's nearing on 5 am and i've done what i've been doing everyday; laying in bed without doing a goddamn thing.

i decided to take a walk without second thought as the clock hit 05:00. i simply put on some shoes, trousers and a hoodie before heading out, deciding to just leave my phone.

it was pouring down rain when i stepped outside of the building. the air seemed too cold for spring and wind was close to knocking me over. i trembled from the coldness as i walked, only getting colder and feeling my fingertips becoming more numb.

i didn't have a clue how long i'd been walking around but i could only assume i looked like a proper zombie. or a drug addict. my face was so cold i was getting pins and needles and my balance was unsteady for the numb, prickly coldness in my feet.

a police car had slowed down next to me, an older gentlemen sticking his head out. i stopped and stared.

"hey, son, what is it you're doing out here so early?" he questioned. i didn't know how to respond, so i shrugged. he paused for a second as well. "you want a ride home?" he offered. i shook my head.

"it's not far." i blankly stated. he nodded. "what time is it?"

"8:02."

"oh." i looked at the ground, shuffled my feet and looked back up. "thank you. goodbye." and i was already speed walking away before he even had a chance to say anything back.

-

and you said you need me to let this go  
but it's who i am, or am i just losing it  
'cause you said jump and i went first  
but falling's always been my downfall

-

nick called george round so we could discuss what's happened. nick says that it's gotten to a point where things, like housing and food, are at risk because of me. i can't argue with him over that, but i did over him getting george to come over so we could have a chat. tried and failed to prove my point, i might add. nick didn't agree that i was okay or that this wasn't caused by george and i's breakup. he was right.

nick left when george entered the apartment, informing us that he'd be back in an hour. fuck him. i'm stuck with the one man who has hurt me the most, yet has also provided me with so much love that it's almost more powerful than the ending of that love.

george and i started off having a steady conversation. it was average stuff kind of, beginning with things like "it was for the best you know" and "dream you should talk to someone".

at some point he said something that pissed me off, so i replied with something snarky as well, probably calling him on his bullshit. we'd progressed into have a screaming match that ended with george proclaiming,

"you've got to let this go!" before slamming the door shut and leaving. the ring of silence was so deafening afterwards, leaving a physically painful sensation to warm my body.

i had a major panic attack following that. i assume my brain didn't properly register that i was having a panic attack, because the only thing i could think to do was curl up into a corner and let it wash over me.

nick had found me when he returned home, a time period which i cannot calculate. all i remember is hearing a door close, my chest feeling a surge of squeezing, sharp panic stab through it that urged in a gasp of breath, as i hadn't been breathing for several seconds. i only thought to burrow my head deeper into my knees, pressing my cramped and trembling hands against my ears. that's when i saw nick sit down in front of me, dropping a few paper bags beside him. he'd managed to calm me down, and explained to my hazy mind that i had a panic attack, but that was having trouble processing as well.

i was left in a depersonalised state of mind for the remainder of the day after that. frequently forgetting where i was, seeing the world like i was watching a film.

-

and you say i drink, and i smoke, and i talk too much  
but i know you lied  
when you said that you just had enough and save yourself  
so hear me out

-

everything he's said is constantly replaying in my mind. from the latest argument to little comments he made months ago.

it hurts my brain, it does. the last thing i want to be occupied with is thinking about him. i'm supposed to get over him, that's what he said. it's what all our mates say. i can't though, and i don't think i ever will.

the day following the major panic attack i was left in such a depressed state that i was only able to leave my bed twice, and that was to use the restroom and then come right back. i didn't talk to anyone, i didn't eat anything, i didn't brush my teeth, take a shower, tweet, i didn't even turn on my phone. just hours and hours of laying under a duvet in a locked room in complete darkness.

it feels like things are just getting worse.

-

you know everybody talks girl  
and it means nothing 'til you let it  
and if you keep second guessing  
then there's only gonna be one end

-

i uploaded for the first time a few days following the argument with george. it took a lot of fucking willpower, and albeit enough coffee to sedate a college kid, but i'd managed one.

most of the feedback was lovely on the video, welcoming me back with open arms after the weeks of not uploading. then there was a lot of critical comments and replies telling me the video was boring, that it seemed too forced and played up. people commented on how i looked in the video, according to them that included 'fucking tired', 'spaced out' and 'sad'.

it shouldn't have affected me, yet it did. i considered taking down the video for a long time, and nearly did, but decided against it. the comments about how i seemed bored really made me think. yeah, i concluded, i was bored, and uninterested. it seemed very scary to me once i'd realised that i'd gotten bored with making youtube videos. it dawned upon me that i was bored with everything. that was fucking terrifying.

now i realise that i've practically lost all i can lose. i've lost my boyfriend, my friends, the hope for my career, everything.

i realise now that there's only one thing left to do,

-

but you can leave, if you really want to  
and you can run, if you feel you have to

-

george can fucking leave if he wants. george and nick and wilbur and whoever else. it won't matter soon.

nothing will matter in time. i'll fix everything.

no one will have to look after me anymore, nick won't have to lockpick my door to check on me, george won't have to worry that i've spiraled downwards again, i won't have to think about george, all my friends and family will move on and everything will be okay again.

this is my fate and it always has been.

-

and i can drink, if i feel i have to  
i know it's hard, but i can't feel like i used to  
like i used to

-

i'll be gone in about a week; the morning of friday before anyone is awake.

i always thought that if i knew i was going to die soon i'd make my last days my very best but it just felt useless doing that. in the grand mass of things what will that do? it'll just provide me with temporary satisfaction in the progression of how life plays out until it eventually had to come to an end and i'm left all alone again with nothing to keep me going and nothing to make me feel the way i long for. it's a forlorn feeling, the one i strive for. it's useless.

life isn't growing up, meeting someone you love and getting a nice big house with 3 children and a dog to live happily ever after. life is being bullied at school and having your own parents resent you for what you've grown up to be. life is being admitted into a psych ward at the age of 15 because your brother found you standing on a chair, rope around your neck, ready to kick it out from under you. life is having a constant battle with your chemically imbalanced brain that's only beaten more by shitty relationships with the people you loved, it's not having a steady career that you could lose at any moment. life is having to come to terms with the fact that the only things you stayed for have gone without you.

once you realise how bad the world really is that's when you consider just how much of an impact you could really have. shitty governmental systems with fucked up politicians making stupid laws, species going extinct because everyone's careless, knowing the world is doomed because people have already given up in one way or another. me? i've decided to just give up altogether.

-

'cause i used to, defy gravity  
defy gravity  
goodbyes keep dragging me  
down

-

things used to be good. for a few years, that is. it was good when i was making a good living doing something that i genuinely enjoyed, surrounded by people that made me feel good.

but you can't have bad without the good and by god did i need a lot of bad to get even a shred of good. i went 17 years before life started looking up again. then, 3 years later, it's just gone back down again. farther than it ever has.

nothing will ever be worth having to go through that much shit again, even if it brings a few years of peace and content. i plan to reach nothing. i only want to ensure that i can stop feeling like i do and hope that my decision will make others better again.

-

and i'm fighting gravity  
defying gravity  
i tried, but i keep falling

-

i made sure to tell the people i'll miss goodbye. my parents, nick, wilbur, phil, tommy, tubbo, jack, and schlatt. they were confused when i said it but i know they'll not be confused tomorrow morning.

it was finalised now. set in stone what i planned to do. i went over everything, reconsidered, and decided that no sliver of good is worth the mass of bad and that for me to be gone would really eradicate a lot of issues.

true to my word, at 5 am on a thursday morning i reached into the drawer beside my bed, pocketing a neatly folded note and my phone. i laid the note flat out on the coffee table where nick was certain to find it.

i left the apartment in nothing but a hoodie, sweatpants and socks. i took the stairs up to the roof of the building i was staying in. might as well make the moments before as nice as possible.

i stand here, now, on the roof of the building. it's higher than any place i've ever stood. it's quite dirty up here as well, i must say, but i didn't come up here to critique the tidiness of the roof of a 25 story building.

i sat down on the edge of the building, legs dangling off, so close to falling; yet, i didn't feel scared.

i pulled my phone out for the last time, opening up twitter to tweet a photo of the city from where i sat. i tweeted next just a simple phrase: "goodbye". the followers deserve a goodbye at the very least.

the replies flowed in quick, but i tried not to read too many. i only caught a glimpse of maybe two, which said something along the lines of "are u okay????" and "we love you dream".

i clicked off my phone, giving a smile to it as a sort of a farewell to everything i dedicated the past few years of my life to.

i stood up on the ledge, feet together, back turned to the city and arms hanging beside my side. i stood for a second, then two, then three.

on the tenth second i counted, finally i just let go.

and i fell.


End file.
